Mein Vati und Vater
by The Rambler13
Summary: The story of Ludwig, Gilbert, and Lukas (Berlin) on August 13th. They don't want to remember, and Germany and Prussia both have ways to forget. The story starts off happy, and then... T for drinking. EDIT: Now a series of oneshots about the three of them.
1. Chapter 1

**The title means, "My Daddy and Father". This is the story of the Beilschmeidt brothers and Lukas, the personification of Berlin. Lukas calls Prussia his ****_Vati_**** (Daddy) and Germany his ****_Vater_**** (Father), because he belongs to both of them. (I seem to enjoy giving the countries children...)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Germany or Prussia. Only little Lukas. Italics is German.**

**O-O-O-O**

The door opened.

"_Vati! Vater's _home! _VATER_!" A child's shrill squeal of joy shattered the air.

"Sorry I'm late, _bruder_. My boss was having a very long meeting. You can go now." Germany crouched down to pick up the two-year-old who was clinging to his leg and giggling.

"_Vater_ is scratchy," the tiny boy giggled, the slight stubble on Germany's cheek rubbing up against him.

Prussia smiled tiredly. "Thanks, West."

"Just go," Ludwig said with a sad smile. "I know you don't want to waste time talking to me."

Prussia was gone in a heartbeat.

Setting Berlin down to remove his coat, Germany smiled wryly at the child. "Just us tonight, _ja_ Lukas? What should we have?"

"Wurst!" came the immediate reply.

Ludwig laughed. "I don't think_Vati_ would be very happy if the two of us ate his favorite dinner without him. How about some of the pasta from Italy? He and Rome just made some for us."

"Okay, _Vater_." Lukas ran into the kitchen, ready to help.

When they finished warming the pasta and making sauce, Germany sat Lukas in his highchair and gave him a bowl of pasta with red sauce. As an afterthought, he put on a bib. He didn't trust Lukas to eat his food neatly quite yet.

After dinner, Ludwig did the dishes, letting Berlin play with the dogs on the carpet and every so often looking up to check on them.

When he finished, he glanced up at the clock. "_Gut_ your _Vati_ isn't here, he'd throw a fit if he knew I let you stay up this late." Germany snatched up the toddler with a slight smile and carried him up to bed.

"Which pajamas tonight?" he asked, setting Lukas on the bed.

"Choo-choos! I want choo-choos!"

"Okay. Trains it is." Germany pulled the blue footies out of their drawer and started undressing the toddler.

"_Vater_?"

"_Ja_, Lukas?"

"_Vati_ cries sometimes when he gets me dressed in the morning. Why?"

Germany looked up in surprise. He was shocked, but he knew why his brother cried. He let his eyes travel down the thick scar that reached from Lukas' right shoulder to just below his hip on the left.

"...I ...I don't know."

He knew perfectly well.

When the boy—only one year old in nation years—was literally ripped in two in 1961, they had both been horrified, even separated on their opposing sides.

Prussia was still afraid that one day he would pick up his baby and find his hands soaked in blood again. Sometimes the albino nation got out of bed in the middle of the night to watch Berlin sleep, to prove to himself that Lukas was all right.

"_Vater_? You're squishing me!"

Ludwig looked down and realized that he was hugging the child tightly. He let go. "Sorry, Lukas."

"It's okay, _Vater_! Can I go night-night now? I'm sleepy."

Germany set the child down in his bed. The three dogs immediately climbed in with him, prepared to guard the toddler from any danger. "_Ja. Gut nacht,_ Lukas."

"_Gut nacht, Vater!"_ Lukas waved as Ludwig shut the door.

The minute the door shut, Germany closed his eyes and leaned against it, sighing. He slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, leaning against the door.

Today was August 13th. Today was the day the wall began.

Every year on this day, Prussia went out and got drunk out of his mind with Francis and Antonio. Germany took care of Lukas and tried not to think about it.

53 years, and it still didn't work for either of them.

Glancing up at the clock—a cuckoo clock, of course... ugh—Ludwig sighed. It was probably time to go save Prussia from whatever mess he'd made of himself.

**O-O-O-O**

"Gilbert. You're done." Prussia opened his eyes and saw a blurry face.

"Ngh... Th's mine... Give it." He reached up, trying to swat away the hand that was trying to steal his awesome beer.

"Prussia."

"Go 'way, West." Gilbert finally recognized the voice speaking.

He blinked. "You're *hic* sad. Whassamatter?"

"...you seem to have gotten sufficiently drunk as to forget what day it is. And that means it's time to go home."

"Hey West. I love you, 've I ever said that? 'Cause I looove you..."

Prussia frowned when he received no reply. Why wasn't Germany replying? "West? Don'tcha love me? You hate *hic* me... You probably think I'm 'n idiot."

"No, Gilbert. I would never think that. Now please come home."

Prussia gazed up through blurred vision. "'Kay, West."

He sat there for a bit longer, then suddenly had a brilliant idea.

"Carry me!" Gilbert stumbled to his feet and flopped onto his brother with all the grace of a drunken hippopotamus.

He heard a loud sigh, and then his brother picked him up and slung him unceremoniously over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. His hands dangled limply in the air as Ludwig carried him off.

"West? Hey West!"

"_Was?"_

"You smell nice..."

Germany sighed. "..._Danke_."

**-0-0-0-0-0-**

When they made it home, Ludwig carried his brother up the stairs and past Lukas' bedroom, then dumped him in his bed.

"Sorry West," Prussia mumbled. "I'm sorry..."

"...What?" Germany looked down. He hadn't even known his brother was still awake.

Gilbert was crying, silent tears on his cheeks. "I'm sorry. Every year I try to forget, but it doesn't work..."

"I know." Germany sighed and sat down on the edge of the bed. "One day we won't remember. And, as much as it hurts, we don't want to forget. Because if we forget, that means our people have forgotten. And they should never forget. If they forget, it can happen again."

"It still hurts, though."

"It does. But we can't change anything."

"_Vater_? I had a bad dream..." Lukas stumbled into Prussia's room sleepily, dragging his blanket and rubbing his eyes. All three dogs followed him, forming a pack that moved with him. "_Vati_, why are you crying?"

Germany picked up the little boy and set him on the bed next to them. Prussia grabbed Berlin and pulled him close, smiling through his tears.

Lukas curled up closer and closed his eyes, content as long as he had his _Vati_ and _Vater_. "Night-night, _Vati_."

Both of them were fast asleep in seconds, Gilbert still crying in his sleep. Germany's dogs, all of whom loved Prussia, climbed onto the bed as well, surrounding the albino nation sleeping curled around his capital.

Prussia had a death grip on the little boy. Ludwig looked down at them for a moment, then did something he didn't often do; he pulled off his shoes, crawled over his brother, and flopped down next to him.

_"Gut nacht, bruder,"_ he whispered._"Gut nacht_, Lukas."

Soon, all three of them were fast asleep, and the wall was nothing but a painful memory.

**O-oOo-O**

**Fifty-three years ago today, the Berlin Wall was started, separating families and friends from each other. Breaking a country in two. Don't let it happen again. Don't forget.**

**German:**

**_Vati_****: Daddy**

**_Vater_****: Father**

_**Gut: good**_

**_Gut nacht:_**** good night**

**_Was_****: what**

**_Bruder_****: brother**


	2. Chapter 2

**Well, thanks to PhAnToM 1212, this is now going to be a multi-chapter fic of oneshots. *sweatdrops* This was inspired by a drawing I made (see cover image), and the fact that I needed baby photos for a school assignment. Going through dozens of boxes of cute pictures made me really want some baby cuddles, so you get tiny Berlin—and Prussia and Germany having absolutely no clue how to deal with a baby. ^.^**

**Note: they don't know he's Berlin. They just know they found a baby who won't stop crying. They find out what (or is it who?) he is later.**

**Disclaimer: Sadly, only Berlin is mine. Or maybe luckily. I would screw up so badly at owning something as genius as Hetalia...**

**0-0-0-**

Germany blinked.

A baby...? To keep?

This was going to be interesting.

**O-O-An Hour Previously-O-O**

They found him in the woods.

Germany had dragged Prussia, Japan, and Italy out of bed at six AM for training. Even though the war was over, he still felt the need to keep the people he cared about ready to defend themselves. It was his way of showing affection. As the two brothers were walking back to their home through the woods, Germany stopped.

"What's that noise?"

Prussia frowned. "I don't hear anything. What are you talking a—"

A child's wail pierced the air. The two men looked at each other.

"Where's it coming from?" Gilbert looked around.

"I think I see something in that tree..." Germany pointed. Sure enough, there was a basket wedged between two of the highest branches, a whimpering noise coming from it.

"How did it get up there?" Prussia scratched his head in confusion.

Germany scratched his head. "No idea. But we aren't just leaving it here. How on earth will we get it down?"

"Simple. I'll stand on your shoulders."

Germany sighed.

Five minutes later, Ludwig was struggling to stand as straight upright as possible with his brother standing on his shoulders in his socks, balanced precariously on tiptoe.

"Hurry up. You aren't exactly easy to hold," he grumbled.

"Shut up. You know I'm barely half your weight, mister muscles. Besides, I've almost... got it..." Gilbert stretched as far as he could reach. He grabbed the basket just as he lost his balance and tumbled down, straight into Germany's arms. "Told you the awesome me could do it, West!" He grinned, hugging the basket tightly.

"_Ja_, sure." Setting him down, Ludwig rolled his eyes. "So, is there really a baby in there?"

Prussia pulled aside the blankets. A tiny child was sleeping curled up underneath, no longer crying. The baby couldn't have been more than two weeks old.

"So... we're keeping it, right?"

"What?"

"It's practically a law of nature! If you find a baby in a basket you have to take care of it."

"Gilbert. We know nothing about human children."

"He doesn't look human," he offered hopefully. "And are you really gonna leave this little guy all alone?"

Prussia was right. The child was incredibly pale, possibly albino like Prussia.

Gilbert lifted the tiny form out of the basket, holding him up inches from Ludwig's face. Just then, the tiny boy woke up, blinking pale blue German eyes at him. He was the picture of innocence.

Germany sighed and hoped he wouldn't regret it. "Fine. We'll keep him."

**O-O-Present-O-O**

Prussia looked up with wide eyes. "Ah! West! It's crying! What are we supposed to do when it cries?!"

"Well, first of all, it's a baby, not an it." Germany shot a look at Prussia. "Second of all, I think we need to feed him." The wailing baby grabbed a fistfull of Germany's shirt. "Ow! ...see?"

"...what do we feed a baby?"

"Milk, obviously. Do we have any bottles?"

"I doubt it, unless you mean beer bottles." Prussia glanced at their kitchen. He glanced back at the tiny boy. "Is he even old enough to drink from a baby bottle?"

Germany sighed as the baby continued crying. "He better be. We don't exactly have any other way of feeding him. Now go call America and tell him we need baby things. I'm sure he has plenty of that sort after fifty children. I'll go and see if we have anything in the attic that we can use for now." He handed Prussia the still-wailing infant.

"Wha—why are you giving him to me?! I don't know how to take care of a baby!"

"Neither do I. So figure it out quick."

He left before his brother could protest.

Ludwig climbed up the stairs, then up another flight, then pulled down the trapdoor that led to their attic. The house was old, almost as old as he was. Prussia had lived in it since he first found a five-year-old Germany wandering around with no memory of who or what he was.

He reached the top of the ladder and coughed as a cloud of dust billowed up in his face. "...ugh. We really need to clean this place."

Boxes and chests and parchments covered every available surface, remnants of Germany and Prussia's long histories.

He pushed aside a stack of old papers to reveal the trunk he had been looking for. Lifting the lid, Ludwig pulled out a pair of military uniforms from World War One, and then a few more sets of clothes, each growing progressively older. At the bottom was a long navy blue cloak with a large matching hat, and a white cape and tunic with the Teutonic cross on the front. Lifting the ancient clothes carefully, Germany pulled out a white nightgown, made for a very small child. Beside it lay a hand-carved rattle and an old baby bottle.

He replaced all the other clothes and shut the trunk, grabbing the baby clothes and turning to go back down.

On the way past his room, he paused, his eyes resting on the highest shelf. A faded brown bear with two once-bright button eyes sat propped against a stack of books.

Setting down everything he was carrying, he reached up, standing on tiptoe. Even though he was almost six feet tall, he still had to stretch to reach the teddy bear.

Tucking the bear under his arm and heading back to the kitchen, Ludwig noticed that it was oddly quiet. He walked a little faster, worries building up already.

Quiet was almost never a good thing, especially when the people you cared about had a tendency to never shut up. (Really, was Japan the only person he knew and actually liked who didn't talk incessantly?)

He set down what he was carrying and looked around. Prussia was nowhere to be seen.

Then he heard a voice from the next room. "...but don't worry, West is gonna find you tons of clothes and toys and all kinds of baby stuff. And you'll get to eat really soon, I promise." He heard baby gurgles of laughter. "You're a good boy, aren't you, Lukas? I'm gonna call you Little Awesome."

Germany walked over to the door and looked in. Prussia was sitting cross-legged on the floor, talking to the baby in his lap, who had stopped crying and was now gazing up at him with curious blue eyes.

Blackie, Berlitz, and Aster were all sniffing at the baby curiously, wondering what this tiny human was. Berlitz sneezed and looked up at Prussia questioningly.

Germany laughed softly.

Prussia looked up, his ears going red. "I... Uh, I named him Lukas. Is that okay?"

"It suits him. Now go find the milk, since we don't have baby formula. I found a bottle in the attic. And this." He handed his brother the rattle. He hid the bear behind his back. He would show that later.

Prussia grinned. "Hey Lukas, look!" He shook the rattle. The baby giggled in delight.

Gilbert handed the rattle back to his brother. "Keep making him laugh. I'll go get some milk. Where's the bottle?"

"Kitchen counter," Ludwig replied without looking up. He looked down at the baby. "So... Your name is Lukas now, _ja_?"

Lukas blinked and wiggled happily.

"I found you some clean clothes." He felt ridiculous talking to such a small child, but he continued anyway. "Here." He pulled off the dirty blanket the baby was wrapped in and tugged the flailing limbs into the neck and arm holes. "Is that better?"

Lukas giggled and waved his fists around, smiling. Aster licked him, making him giggle even more.

Prussia came back with a baby bottle full of milk. "I heated it up on the stove. You're supposed to do that, right?"

"_Ja_. Here." Germany picked up the baby and handed him to Gilbert. "You feed him."

Lukas drank the milk greedily, emptying the bottle. "Geez, you were hungry, huh?" Prussia grinned at the baby. All he got in response was a yawn, the little pink lips forming an "O". He looked up. "Hey West, where's he gonna sleep?"

Germany frowned. "On one of our beds, I suppose. We can put pillows around the edges so he won't fall."

Prussia shrugged. "Fair enough." He looked down at Lukas. "Let's go, _mauschen_. Time for bed." He turned and started up the stairs.

"'Little Mouse'?" Germany asked with a raised eyebrow.

"What?" Gilbert shot him a look. "I like it."

Ludwig shook his head with a slight smile. "Here." He handed his older brother the teddy bear. "_Bär_ needed a new friend."

Prussia grinned. "Aw... Do you still sleep with it?" he teased.

"Of course not!" Germany responded, perhaps a bit too quickly. His older brother raised an eyebrow. "...shut up," he muttered.

"Knew it. Come on Lukas. _Vater's_ bear is going to be your new friend."

"..._Vater_?"

"What else is he going to call you and I? You'll get used to it." Prussia turned to give him another look, then disappeared upstairs.

Germany smiled slightly into the silence. "_Vater_..."

Yes, he could definitely get used to it.

**THE END**

**I hope you're happy, Phantom! I tried to make this good for you. Next might have Italy and Rome (Yay! Cute toddler playdates!) Or it might be something else—I have a few ideas floating around. Updates on this may not be as often as I would like—I have other stories, and school—but I'll try!)**


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